


I Like You Just the Way You Are

by PoisonKisses



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Gotham City Sirens - Fandom
Genre: Cookie Pants, F/F, fetishes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 16:14:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10031015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonKisses/pseuds/PoisonKisses
Summary: Harley could be so unfair!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a response to my other drabble here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9994115
> 
> What is Ivy's perspective?
> 
> Note: Ivy's sexuality is a touchy subject. I think she's a fantastic character because it's a little hard to label, and we all have our own preferences, and I think a lot of her fans enjoy self-projecting onto her (I do.) 
> 
> So for my purposes here, I take Ivy as a true sapiosexual.

Harley could be so _unfair._

Ivy sat on the couch, frowning. It was gloomy outside, and all her senses--and those of all the green things around her--were crying out a storm was coming. There was a moment of anticipation in the air, a held breath, as everything outside waited for the wind and rain. When she'd awoken, the other side of her bed undisturbed after Harley--upset, hurt Harley--had slept in her own room, she'd felt like she was tiptoeing, and when Harley made her way downstairs for a cup of cocoa and pop tarts, Harley'd acted like nothing was wrong. 

For the last hour, sipping her tea and watching Harley play something on her Gamebox, her headset on and shouting profanity into it every few minutes, Ivy'd been trying to analyze things. The night before, while working, Harley had slipped into her lab dressed in full naughty school girl gear: short pleated skirt, white button down knotted above her sexy midriff, knee high socks, pig-tails, and makeup laid on thick. She' posed, she'd pouted, she'd simpered, she'd said, "Hey, Red. I've been very bad. So bad. Do ya wanna punish me?"

Ivy's "I'm busy, not particularly," hadn't gone over so well. As soon as the words left her mouth, she desperately wanted them back, because she'd caught the light in Harley's eyes die. The hope. The warm desire just melt away, replaced by hurt.

Harley'd mumbled, "Sorry, Ivy. I didn't mean ta disturb ya." Then she left quietly, the door closing with a soft click. 

More than once, she'd tried to explain how sexuality and arousal worked for her, and Harley seemed to understand, but every so often Harley would get it in her head to 'seduce' her and things went badly. It frustrated Ivy to no end, because she knew matters of the heart, and the groin--she'd spent her whole career manipulating them, but it was always dispassionate for her. She approached it from an emotionally distant perspective, a cold place. She couldn't do that with the little clown girl, because Harley'd found a way around her emotional barriers and made herself at home inside Ivy's defenses. 

Harley was wearing a pair of fleece sleep pants with Cookie Monster on them, and a Gotham Knights jersey that practically swallowed her entire frame--that had been a present from Ivy, football players in clubs--especially Jacen Clark, star running back, shouldn't buy drinks for beautiful redheads they meet in clubs. Her hair was up in a messy high pony tail and she wasn't wearing so much as a drop of makeup. 

She was warm and alive and human.

She was her Harley.

And the girl had no idea how sexy Ivy found her, just like this.

"Harley?" Her voice came out more husky than she meant to. Harley turned in surprise, her face lighting up. She was so beautiful, Ivy felt a rush of love for her, the emotion ran sluggish in Poison Ivy, but there it was. "Can you pause your game for a sec?"

"Nah, but it's ok, those jerks deserve ta lose." She hopped up, gracefully and effortlessly, and bounded over to the couch, "What's up?"

Ivy held her arms out, and Harley pounced on her with a grin. Ivy rarely wanted to cuddle or snuggle--she wasn't normally a toucher or hugger and physical affection was something Harley was starved for. Ivy knew that, and sometimes hated herself for not being more of what Harley so desperately needed. She pulled Harley close. Harley's smell never failed to amuse her--this morning it was raspberry pop tarts (they had superheroes on them, and she'd been munching a Huntress one,) strawberry scented shampoo, and the simple, musky, human smell that was Harley.

"I hurt you last night. I didn't mean to. I'm...sorry." Ivy wasn't given to apologizing. Ever. That was a Pamela thing, and that had died with her on that table so many years ago.

"It's ok, Red, I know. I forget sometimes that ya don't want me the way I want..." Harley trailed off as Ivy slipped a hand under her jersey, sliding it up Harley's tight stomach.

"No, sweetie, that's not it. I do want you that way. Remember I told you, for me, it's not something that happens, it's something I have to make happen, right? Remember the automatic door analogy?" Harley nodded, her expression telling Ivy she did understand when she thought about it--basically, the idea that sex for Harley was an automatic door at the Food2Eat market down the street. For Harley, seeing something or someone sexy would arouse her--make her automatic door slide open. For Ivy, she had to manually push that door, and it didn't matter who or what stood in front of the sensor, nothing would happen if she didn't.

Arousal, the process of sex, it was all a complicated chemical reaction, and Ivy had precise control over her body's chemistry.

Ivy began to 'push her door open,' feeling the familiar, delicious tingle of arousal begin to suffuse through her body, and Harley's arousal at being touched was a delicate musk on the air. She could scent it. Harley began to squirm, biting her lip, her eyes smoldering.

"So, ya don't have no interest in a sexy school girl?" Harley asked, half playfully as Ivy cupped her breast.

"No, I have zero interest in the trappings of an underage girl." She began to pull Harley's cookie pants down over the curve of her hips, and Harley helpfully lifted up.

"But, ya do have an interest in me?" Harley's voice was small, hopeful. It made that same rush of affection hit Ivy hard.

Warm, squirmy, wriggling, sexy Harley.

Human Harley.

HER Harley.

"You don't have to dress up for me, sweet pea. Put on a show. Or an act. I like you just the way you are."

Harley smiled a smile that was positively beatific. "I'm yours, Ivy." For a moment, Ivy paused. It was always in the back of her mind.

That was a beautiful lie. One that Harley said occasionally. Someday, maybe, it might be true. Not today. She still had to share her.

For now, Ivy chose to believe it. She chose to smile and flip Harley onto her back to a chorus of giggles. She put it to the back of her mind as she tossed the cookie pants away.

Mmmm, Harley.


End file.
